


hold me close

by dragonmage27



Series: a series of domestic fluff [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Inspired by Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmage27/pseuds/dragonmage27
Summary: Damen slid his hands lower so they cupped Laurent’s bottom, and lifted him up with ease. Instinctively, Laurent parted his legs, his thighs bracing himself against Damen’s hips, and Laurent’s arms moved to rest on Damen’s shoulders. Those ridiculous slippers pressed against Damen’s legs.Laurent’s gaze met Damen’s, and they stared into each other’s eyes. Laurent’s blue eyes were the glistening ocean and Damen was a voyager in those seas, forever searching, seeking, and drowning happily.“You utter brute,” Laurent breathed out fondly.“Your brute,” Damen corrected.





	

Damen woke to the smell of coffee wafting into the bedroom. Instinctively he reached for the warm body beside him but his hands landed on cold empty sheets. With a light groan, he forced his eyes open. The sun was shining bright through their balcony glass doors, casting shadows on their discarded clothes from last night’s dinner party. Damen heaved himself out of bed; there was no point staying in it without Laurent.

He pulled on some striped pajama bottoms, forgoing the top. It was warm in the house and the pants were just a precaution, to not offend the delicate sensibilities of anyone Laurent might have invited over—mainly Nikandros, who had not been very happy to be confronted with his naked best friend at eight in the morning.

Damen exited the bedroom, following the sound and smell of cooking in the kitchen. Along the way, he spotted streamers that a drunk Pallas and Lazar had strewn around the house at the stroke of midnight. He knew they had only skipped the confetti because Laurent would have hunted them down and forced them to clean up each piece that was hiding in every crevice and corner until July.

In the kitchen, he was greeted with the most splendid sight—Laurent standing by the stove, wearing nothing but the checkered-pattern shirt Damen wore the previous night. It was big on him, reaching the top of his thighs and his long, pale legs were bare. His golden hair was untied, draping over his shoulders in that sleepy, just-risen-from-bed way. Laurent had some music playing, the soft piano melodies mixing with the sound of the oven-hood vent. Damen recognized the classical notes, it was the new album Auguste released earlier in the month.

From the way Laurent stayed focused on flipping the pancakes, he had not realized Damen was standing at the doorway. Damen wanted to stay in this moment forever, but the only sight he loved more than Laurent’s backside was gazing upon Laurent face-to-face. “Morning,” he called out.

Laurent set down the spatula and turned. “Good morning.”

“I missed you in bed today,” Damen teased. He wanted to walk over and give him a kiss, but from afar he could admire the long lines of Laurent’s body.

“I thought to bring you breakfast in bed. You simply woke too early,” Laurent replied, a smile dancing at the corner of his lips.

Damen couldn’t wait any longer. With a few long strides, he stepped into Laurent’s space, wrapped an arm around Laurent’s waist and pulled him close. Their lips pressed into a rather chaste kiss. He pulled away and said, “Bringing you breakfast in bed is my job.” His lips drifted, pressing small kisses across Laurent’s cheek, behind his ear, along his sharp jawline, to the sensitive spot on his neck. All the while, he murmured “Don’t ever forget, I am your slave. I have given all of myself to you.”

Laurent let out a huff and pushed Damen a few inches away with a gentle push. Damen noticed Laurent left his hand on his chest. Damen’s hand was still curled around his waist. Laurent, ever present and aware, turned off the stove. With a playful frown, he reprimanded “Then my slave has left me hungry, waiting in bed. How disappointing.”

Damen wrapped his second hand around Laurent, this hand dipping lower, right on the curve of his lower back. The motion pulled Laurent close to him once more, and Damen was going to ask what punishment Laurent wanted to dole out for this oversight, but he felt something soft and furry brush against his bare toes. He frowned. If Erasmus and Torveld forgot their cat, that would be concerning. He glanced down and couldn’t suppress his laugh.

Laurent’s long legs were bare, but his feet was swallowed up by the giant Sasquatch slippers Nicaise had given Laurent as a gag gift. “I hope you trip,” Nicaise had written on the card.

Laurent accepted the gift graciously. “I’ll never wear them.” But Damen knew Nicaise had been there when Laurent complained about the cold kitchen floor.

Laurent wrapped his arms around Damen and pressed his head to Damen’s chest which was still shaking from the chuckles. “Don’t laugh,” he murmured.

“Forgive me,” Damen suppressed his laughter, and pressed a kiss to the top of Laurent’s head. “You look beautiful.” The stove was warm, the smell of coffee and pancakes surrounded him and he had his arms full of Laurent. Everything was perfect.

“Don’t lie.” Laurent was dancing his fingers gently across Damen’s back, sending shivers down Damen’s spine. He could feel himself stir. He wanted more.

“Your head is resting on my heart. Tell me if you heard a lie.”

Laurent stayed silent, but with soft lips pressed a kiss on Damen’s chest, right over his heart.

It broke the dam, and Damen was flooded with emotion. With quick movements, Damen slid his hands lower so they cupped Laurent’s bottom, and lifted him up with ease. Instinctively, Laurent parted his legs, his thighs bracing himself against Damen’s hips, and Laurent’s arms moved to rest on Damen’s shoulders. Those ridiculous slippers pressed against Damen’s legs.

Laurent’s gaze met Damen’s, and they stared into each other’s eyes. Laurent’s blue eyes were the glistening ocean and Damen was a voyager in those seas, forever searching, seeking, and drowning happily.

“You utter brute,” Laurent breathed out fondly.

“Your brute,” Damen corrected. “I’m hungry and I’m going to carry you to bed now.”

Laurent didn’t make any motion indicating that he wanted to be put down. “But the food is here,” he said with amusement. “Do you want to eat in the balcony?” Damen enjoyed watching the ocean break waves from their balcony, it reminded him of growing up in Ios and Laurent knew this. But he hasn’t yet realized that Damen’s favorite view was now his bed, with Laurent in it.  

“Let’s take some blueberries and cream for you. You can eat them off my stomach.” Damen walked Laurent over to their fridge.

“Oh,” Laurent’s eyes glittered. “And what will you eat?”

“Mine’s a different kind of hunger,” Damen replied, and lifted his head up to catch Laurent’s lips. Laurent answered the kiss with fervor.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Forever blessed to have my best friend Erica who is the creator of this gorgeous piece of artwork. Is she not the most talented artist? I am nothing without her, she humbles me, spoils me, keeps me alive. Thank you darling <3
> 
> Also congratulations to my Captive Prince partner-in-crime [Cynthia](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/) FOR GETTING MARRIED TODAY HOLY SHIT.
> 
> Find [me](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! Happy New Year Captive Prince Fandom!!


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